Before taking Uncle Stan to the airport today, we went to Venice Beach for one last look at the ocean. Uncle Stan said that he didn’t want to leave. From the minute he woke up he started pouting. He pouted as he packed his bags. He pouted at breakfast. He pouted on the freeway. He pouted at the pier. He pouted at the sand and the palm tree. He didn’t pout while looking at the surfers, though. He perked up and gave them a little wave. The thing is, he didn’t want to leave. He said that this was the best boost of life he’s had in years and I feel the same! I know at the beginning I was acting like a little bitch but I’m so grateful for this experience. We’ve gotten to know each other very well, something that has needed to be done for quite some time. Thanks to Uncle Stan, I’ve really explored who I am and what I want and where I’m going… I’ll tell you, though, nothing is more exciting than dropping off a happy guest at the airport and the feeling of freedom to do whatever the fuck you want! My first plan, to meet up with some hot breeders for Happy Hour… Baby steps. Baby steps.
Oh, and I never met up with that one guy. I asked him to lunch 2 days in advance but he found an excuse not to go. He sent me a text saying that he’d love for me to call him next week when I was availble and ended it with a smiley face. I fucking hate smiley faces sometimes. Even if next week I’m sitting on the shitter picking my nose, I’m not calling him. 3rd time wasn’t the charm.
